


Days like this

by Hollow_Void



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comforting Lance, Depressed Keith, Hurt/Comfort, Keith angst, M/M, The klance is subtle, keith is having a bad day, kinda like a self rant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 18:23:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hollow_Void/pseuds/Hollow_Void
Summary: Keith hated days where his limbs were too heavy and his mind was too foggy. The days that make him think too much and not enough at the same time.But he can't escape them. Its a carousel of pain, a cycle of false hope and reality.





	Days like this

Keith hated days like this. When the act of doing mundane activities rivals climbing a mountain. When every second that passes can be felt and counted with such ease. Where he can watch the clock count away the hours and his thoughts filling the space between each tick of the hands. 

He hated that every job and activity that needed to be done created a weight that rendered him useless. Making sure that things like going to the toilet or eating became a chore, leaving him with the idea to just skip out of it completely.

Don’t get him wrong, he has tried so hard to get out of bed. But the duvets seem to get heavier and his muscles fill with lead. His pillow whispers to him, telling him that if he closes his eyes, his strength will come back. The cloud will disappear and he will be able to stand up and leave his mind. He listens to it. Every time. But each time his limbs and the duvets get heavier. His mind gets foggier and the space between the seconds get bigger.

On days like this, he wished he had his dad back. The dad that would know something was wrong and hold him while he cried. The dad that would see his child was in pain and use his magic dad powers to get rid of the bad thoughts. On days like this, Keith would pay anything to see his dad look at him with the fatherly protectiveness that he use to. He would pay anything to be held in his dad’s arms and have the fog batted away. To have the seconds become less apparent and the duvets to become feather light. 

But that won't happen. Because he is gone. He isn’t coming back. He can’t, not after visiting the big man in the sky. Not after the fire ran rampant through their home and tore them apart. The fire that grew and grew until it was able to take his dad away from him. What can he say? His father was a fireman and he was drawn to the lure of the flames. But, those flames took him away when he least expected it. So he can’t come back.

On days like this, Keith wishes to reach out to his team. But they have their own problems to fight. Pidge’s family is in danger and they are trying their best to bring them back together. To reunite a family torn apart by war. Shiro has been a victim of war and health. While his body was trying to kill him, he was dragged into a war which introduced an army of people out for his blood. Hunk had anxiety, and he tries so hard to be brave. 

If he can fight his fears, why can’t you not be a worthless piece of hybrid trash and get out of bed?

Allura and Coran lost their entire race for god sake! And you are being beaten by a blanket. You are being beaten by the sound of seconds passing and your voices shouting. 

You can’t even find the strength to cry.

To shout or whisper for help.

You can’t find the strength to move your jaw to chew food to eat. 

Instead, you lay in bed with your headphones on hoping somehow that the rhythm of the beat with settle in your heart. Will make it beat and feel something other than the overbearing weight of the world.

You don’t deserve the world to hold on your shoulders.

He could talk to Lance. But the Cuban boy has demons of his own. He has insecurities and homesickness. He has a reason for feeling down. He wants to see his family again. 

In a way, that's what Keith wants too. But he can’t. So does it count as homesickness? If the home you want doesn’t exist any more?

Keith remembers what his councillor at the Garrison said to him. That sometimes telling someone who is struggling that you are struggling too makes them feel less alone. That letting them help you will let them give advice they wish to hear, that it will let them feel useful and therefore make you feel better. 

But what if it doesn’t? What if it makes them feel worse?

He feels the team communicator go off again and checks it. The group chat they made goes off with jokes and stories. Everyone seems perfect. He wants to reply, truly want to be able to type out a message or crack a joke. But it’s too much. If someone asks what he is doing or how he is doing, he might break. He can’t break.

Not yet.

There is still space in his bottle of feelings. It’s not ready to burst yet. If he breaks it now, the next break will come quicker and the next quicker than that. If he waits for it to be full then he can get it over with in one go.

For now, that bottle is only half full. But the mixture is dense. Picking up the bottle is already almost as heavy as past full bottles. One wrong move and he will loose grip on it. It will break and so will his mind.

“Keith?”

There’s a knock at the door and a familiar voice makes it’s way through the metal and into his room. He wants to say go away. He wants to plead Lance not to leave. But he can’t make the words. He can’t speak. He can’t move and he doesn’t know if he wants Lance to leave.

Luckily, Lance makes the decision for him and enters the dark room. The lights are off, the only flicker of light is the blinker on the communicator device telling him there is a new message.

Lance makes his way over to the bed where Keith lays curled up under the slab of blanket. He sits near to Keith’s pillow is and lifts it so that Keith is laying his head on his thigh. He runs his hands through inky locks and looks down to the broken paladin.

“I know you can’t talk. I know it must feel like running a marathon to get out of bed, but you need to look after yourself. You need to go to the toilet and eat and wash and laugh okay? I know it is going to be difficult but you need to know that I am here, and if you will let me, I will stay right beside you.”

Silent tears fell from Keith’s eyes. It was too much, his bottled pain was breaking too quick. He wasn’t ready to let it yet. He was scared to feel. 

He was terrified of feeling anything, because he will get hurt. 

“I don’t want to force you Keith but you have to get up. I’m here but you need to get up.”

Lance stood up again and held out his hand towards Keith. Staring at it, Keith began to debate what to do. If he took Lance’s hand, the bottle will break and he might not be able to let go. But if he left it and let the bottle fill, The next break may lead to Keith never coming back. Physically and mentally.

Helping others makes others feel better.

He wants to see Lance happy.

If it seems difficult to do for yourself, try doing it for someone else. Not all the time, but when it matters. And Lance matters.

Using all the strength he could muster, he broke through the concrete in his bones and lifted his sickly pale hand out to Lance. In return, he got a reassuring squeeze and a pull towards normality. 

Perhaps he could do this. Let the fog dissipate enough for that smile. For those blue eyes and that caring, loving heart.

Just one more push. Let the ticking of the clock disappear. Tell the pillow that now is the time. Reward the small chores. However small, it matters.

You matter.

And with that, he was standing at the side of the bed with his hand in Lance’s. 

Don’t get him wrong. He isn’t fixed. These days will come back. But for now, he has motivation to get through today.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a rant fic because days like this are horrible. I hope you liked it!!!!
> 
> This fic is also on my tumblr hollow--void


End file.
